


Goodbye

by Lazarusmycroft



Series: Reasons to be Missed [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, Gen, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:57:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazarusmycroft/pseuds/Lazarusmycroft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've been feeling kind of dark lately so I took it out on a fic.  I'm sorry, it is very angsty and I may have made myself cry a little.  Sherlock is pining and using again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and kudos are always welcome and i hope you enjoy!

Sherlock's phone was beeping incessantly from the desk where he had left it, he didn't have the energy, nor the desire, for that matter to lift himself from the sofa to respond to whomever it was trying to reach him. He lay sprawled the length of the sofa, dressed in his trousers and black button up shirt, the sleeve of his left arm was rolled up past his elbow and hung limply to the floor. In his right hand was clutched the item that had brought the brilliant detective to this lethargic state. The hypodermic syringe was resting on his flat stomach as he enjoyed the effects of the drug he had recently injected in his own vein.

He vaguely remembered a time when there was a reason he no longer did this sort of thing, how long ago was that? He couldn't remember and frankly it didn't matter, all that mattered now was that he was able to turn off his thoughts, the runaway train inside his skull was silent for the moment and that was a nice feeling. He really wished that his mobile would just be quiet for a moment and let him enjoy this relaxation.

The mid afternoon watery sun was slowly sliding from the sky and Sherlock thought mildly to himself that he must have spent the entire day on the sofa, in this state. He smiled slightly at the thought, no one bothered to check on him anymore...not since...not since...he could slowly feel the drug leaving his system and he didn't want to come back to reality yet, it was too painful. With enormous effort he lifted himself from his prone position and sat a minute to let his foggy head adjust to this new position.

John, that was the reason he stopped the drugs all that time ago. John wasn't really a big part of his life anymore, he had his own life now, he no longer needed Sherlock the way he once did. There was a time, a very long time ago, when they needed each other, they completed the other person and made him better. Sherlock thought they would always be together, helping keep the darkness in each soul at bay. That was not destined to be. The darkness within his own soul would win this battle in the end, laughing bitterly to himself he realised that it was always meant to go this way. It was okay.

With another huge effort he lifted himself from the sofa to retrieve his stash of heroin, he no longer kept his drug paraphernalia in his Persian slipper, he simply kept it locked in his desk drawer. He wasn't even sure why he locked it, there wasn't anyone here snooping and looking for it. Having retrieved the drugs and a new needle he crossed back to the sofa, grabbing his mobile on the way. Lying back down he did up the tourniquet and found the vein he was looking for and injected for the second time that day. It was dark now, he hadn't turned any lights on within the flat.

He took a moment to relish the warmth that spread to his extremities, it was a soft floating feeling. Sherlock sighed and smiled contentedly. He decided to check and see who had been texting him. A few were from Mycroft, his brother, constantly worrying and annoying him, he didn't even open those to read. A couple more were from Molly, he smiled at that, sweet Molly, she always cared. Although he appreciated her concern he also didn't read her messages at this time. Finally he looked to see who the third person was, it was John. Something clenched painfully in Sherlock's chest and he experienced a minute when he almost couldn't breathe. He clicked on the doctor's name to open his message screen.

Was planning on stopping by after I finish at the clinic today. Let me know if you will be in-JW

I really wanted to stop. Text back please-JW

If I don't hear from you I'll assume you are busy on a case. Maybe tomorrow.-JW

It's 5:00, you must be busy, I'll phone tomorrow-JW

Please let me know if you need me.-JW

As he lay there in the deepening darkness of the flat, reading these messages he became aware that something was not quite right, in fact something was terribly wrong. He felt a spreading numbness throughout his body. He felt heavy, so heavy that he could not even lift his head from the pillow. The spot on the inside of his elbow where he had recently injected felt unnaturally warm. His usually sharp senses, dulled by the drug, caught up a moment later and he realised what was happening, he also realised at that same time that he could do nothing about it. He did the only thing he had time to do before his body began spasming, fighting for his life, in the end he would lose. He had inadvertently overdosed. His shaky hand typed out his last message to the man who had saved him countless times, except now. The only man whom he had ever loved. A single tear slid down his cheek as he hit send. 

Goodbye, John.-SH

**Author's Note:**

> So now you're gone, and I was wrong  
> I never knew what it was like, to be alone  
> Linkin Park, Valentine's Day


End file.
